


“Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls, and just wanted to go to sleep forever?” - Bo Goldman

by misreall



Series: Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist [29]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hairstyles, Kissing, Love, Oral Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex, hairpulling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: There is something different about Loki, and Nora's not sure how she feels about it
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/520786
Comments: 52
Kudos: 78





	“Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls, and just wanted to go to sleep forever?” - Bo Goldman

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Loki's makeover in his new series.

Loki and Nora spent their winters in Chicago.

Nora wasn’t exactly sure why. 

She loved Chicago and it was and always would be her home, but if they were going to spend a season at home there were three better choices than winter.

Something of the pure misery of it probably spoke to Loki’s soul, she thought. 

Also, the thought of their possibly missing a polar vortex would plague him.

Rolling over and pushing aside the bed curtains, she looked out of the floor to ceiling windows that Loki had recently installed in his latest round of redecorating. The sky was a pale, smudged grey, the lake a roiling, sludgy version of the same. Even though she knew it was impossible she could _ feel _ the road salt tickling her nose and scratching her throat. 

With a moan she rolled back over, covering her face and burrowing into Loki’s pillow since he had long since gotten up.

When she had decided she could stand to get out of bed and gone to the kitchen for coffee, she had noticed that Charles was reorganizing the jam cupboard, by the provenance of the preserves it seemed. Getting the milk, she could see that their bigger-on-the-inside refrigerator had been cleaned and sorted, with every item a perfect inch apart from every other item, with all jars and bottles wiped down and turned to face forward. 

The freezer drawers were gorgeous as well.

Charles was rarely nervous, and when he was, his features were physically incapable of showing anything other than a placid intelligence, so when upset he cleaned and organized. 

Relentlessly.

“Ok, what did he do?”

Charles turned, straightening his suit vest, folding his hands together, then unfolding them and refolding them behind his back, shifting his weight slightly from side to side, never quite meeting her eyes.

Normally their demonic manservant didn’t fidget.

“Shit. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Finally, in his gray, calm voice, Charles said, “Madame, I have no words.”

“You do not care for it, I can tell.”

“The day I don’t like anything about you without a ‘y’ in it,” Nora said, continuing to try and read. 

“Only on Midgard and in English, does that work as a compliment. Or make any matter of sense.”

“Fine. The day I don’t like anything about you is a day without  _ you _ in it. Is that better?”

Loki frowned down at his wife, partially because he was quite a lot taller than she was but primarily because he did not understand what she meant, and being in a position of not understanding anything irked him. “Why would there be a day  _ with _ ‘u’ in it?”

Nora rolled her eyes up at him, mostly because he was standing over where she sat reading but somewhat because he was usually not so dense. Loki was generally the opposite of dense, except for those special times when he was an utter, fucking nimrod.

Those special times generally ended with them in terrible danger and/or space jail, which at least seemed unlikely to happen now. Though he was trying not to pout, which also tended to end in disaster. 

He continued to loom over her, reaching up to push his hair back over his shoulder. 

Except the hair was no longer there, so he ended up brushing his shoulder as if an impudent, as well as imaginary speck of dust, had dared to mar the perfection of his black cashmere sweater. With a sigh that she intentionally made louder and more aggrieved than she was actually feeling, Nora closed her book and set it aside.

“Why do you think I don’t like it?”

“You said not a word over breakfast. Indeed, you barely ate. Your fork kept missing your mouth as you were so busy staring at me in horror that you never looked down. Not that it should have been easy even thus, as your mouth was  _ gaping  _ open.”

Someone had to really love to talk to manage to have a boredly aristocratic drawl and a snippy tone at the same time, but Loki was gifted when it came to anything oral, Nora thought to herself, while answering, “It wasn’t horror. Shock is fair.”

Loki’s long, blacker than black hair was one of his greatest vanities. He cared for it like a beloved, spoiled pet almost more than as a part of himself, treating it to special potions and carefully curated magics, as well as tender brushings. Nora loved it too. Pulling it, stroking it as he lay with his head on her lap, washing it when they bathed together, which all but made him purr.

Occasionally being tied up with it…

Additionally, it was a fairly accurate barometer of his mental state. When Loki let his hair get dirty it was a sign he was not getting enough rest, frizz reflected deep stress and guilt, mangy Christmas tree formation meant everyone better watch the hel out. 

Which was the real reason Nora had spent breakfast staring at him like an idiot who had lost her village. 

Her husband’s crowning glory and third favorite bodily feature was… short. 

Short and curly, truly curly rather than frizzed out, which in effect made it even shorter.

It didn’t even touch the collar of his sweater.

Nora didn’t know what short, curly hair meant and she didn’t like it. Was it dangerous hair? Cheerful? Confused? Self-hating or self-pleased? 

Hungry?

No, he’d eaten breakfast.

No matter what it might mean it was utterly adorable. Charming. Sexy. 

Nora could practically see how those curls would tremble and feel how they’d tickle as Loki crawled down her body. 

Then she realized that a lot of time had gone by and she hadn’t said anything and that Loki was looking steadily more uneasy. “Is it truly so horrible?” he asked, rather softly. Then, before she could answer, he shook his head, a soft sneer on his lips, “Nevermind, this was a silly change.” 

As he shook, his hair unfurled from its curls, scrolling down his shoulders, covering him in a blanket of straight, silken locks. “Better?”

Nora stood up and walked to him, “Change it back.”

“I know you didn-”

Grabbing a handful of the long hair, she used it to pull him down a bit, even as she stood on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Bring those curls back. I really want to play with them.”

For a moment he did nothing, then an arm wrapped about her, pulling her flush with his long body, pressing her to him, kissing her. “You need not worry about humoring me, treasure, I-”

Nora pulled harder, twining his hair around her fist, rubbing up against his cock which had now gone from hardening to hard enough to all but bruise her stomach. “I want those curls,” she said again.

His thin lips smiled against her mouth, “Perhaps a compromise.”

One of his long-fingered hands stroked her throat slowly, as she felt his hair stir and slither, tangling her fingers, trapping them, wrapping around her wrist, up her arm. Lifting her easily with the arm about her waist, so her legs had nowhere to go but about his hips, Loki carried her down the hall towards their bedroom.

Bedchamber, if he was the one talking about it.

Her free hand pushed under his sweater. They slept together naked every night yet the feel of his skin, the unyielding yet so welcoming feel of lean muscle over bone, never grew less thrilling. 

The kiss was lazy, and he walked rather slowly so they could enjoy it, devouring each other as if they had all day.

When they reached their bed, the door loudly kicked closed behind them, her clothes were gone to wherever Loki sent them when he used his magic to strip her bare. If he liked what she was wearing they would end up clean and back in the closet.

If he didn’t she would never see them again. Which meant she would buy new ones that looked the same, since Nora always dressed as she pleased. It was a little game they played. “You, too,” she said, as he lowered her to the massive bed, laying her in the nest of black velvet, black linen, and what he swore to her was magically produced sable, that was his latest choice in bedding.

Grabbing the hand that was caught in the snare of his hair, he laughed against her palm, slowly licked the pads of each finger, “Not yet. I want to make you rather more desperate.”

_ Oh, he was really irked about the hair _ , Nora thought. 

This was going to be a while.

His mouth was always agile, witty, cruel, and tender no matter what Loki might use it for, and now it was between her legs, his hair freeing her so she could clutch it again. 

“Shorter,” she gasped out after he had given her one, too delicate lick.

Loki looked up at her, resting on his elbows, an unbelieving eyebrow raised, “You want me to go down on you less?” 

Nora smiled, “The hair. I want those short curls. This position is practically begging for them. I’m begging for them. Well, you know, in the way I beg by telling you what I want and getting it.”

He smiled back, looking down as if capable of being embarrassed, though he was probably simply admiring the view. “So you truly liked it?” As he spoke there was a shimmer of seidr and the short, full curls returned, framing his beautiful face.

“I loved. I would love your hair no matter what style it was, or color, or even if you were bald.”

Now he frowned, meeting her eyes, his own flashing the tiniest bit of Jotun red within the green, “That shall never happen.” 

Then, his tongue began to play with her, giving her the very least it could, no matter how much she might pull those dear curls, which only made the bare brushing he gave her with the very tip of his tongue go slower. Panting, drenched, exhausted, and needy, Nora gave up after a time, knowing that Loki was capable of remaining down there, all but immobile, for hours if it suited him and might. 

Toying with his curls, letting their ends tickle her fingers like tiny snake tongues that matched what he was doing to her below drove her out of her mind.

After a year or so, she could sense another tickle of seidr as Loki’s clothing dissipated. With a grateful moan, she ran her feet over his back, rubbed her calves and thighs against his sides, making him moan into her.

The resonance of the sound was almost enough to tip her over the edge, making her pull those pretty curls all the harder, leaving him all but humping the mattress in turn. 

A laugh startled out of Nora, as it always did when she knew Loki was as wild for her as she was for him, “I love you,” came out with the laugh.

He stopped, and then looked up again, his face slightly flushed and hungry, his pupils wide, and he now crawled up her body, skin touching and sliding over as much skin as it could, those pretty, pretty curls bouncing even as they were soaked with sweat, crawling so slowly until finally his heavy, thick cock teased her, pressing hard on her clit, as his wet mouth now teasing her own, “Say it again. Never stop saying it…” he commanded, entering her, stretching her even though she was more than ready, filling her completely and not moving until she did.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” she chanted, the words groaning out of her with the power of the slow, hard thrusts. Wrapped more and more tightly about him, his wet mixing with hers, her fingers back digging into his curls, Nora whispered into his ear, “And I love your hair.”

Growling in pleasure, he reached between them and rubbed her clit hard with his thumb, tilting her hips up, so he could touch every bit of her inside, pushing her over the edge of her pleasure and falling after her.

Nora snuggled against Loki’s side, an arm about her, stroking his chest, her face buried in his curls, which were miraculously - or magically - dry and perfect even as the rest of their bodies remained soaked and disheveled. “Why?” she asked.

She could feel him shrug, “It is probably closer to what my hair would do should I allow nature to take its course.” He shuddered slightly at that thought. 

“I do like it, you know.” 

“Enough to nearly pull every strand free,” he said with a nod that left the curls in question tickling her nose.

After a few moments they both started to drift to sleep.

“It’s cute,” Nora added drowsily, burrowing closer in.

There was a sleepy silence.

Then.

With roaring outrage.

“CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

  
  
  
  



End file.
